


Hakuoki: Song of Truth

by Kyndred_Raven (Ravenna_Corvin)



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Evolving Tags, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Historical Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5325845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenna_Corvin/pseuds/Kyndred_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Ch 2 Up!]The year is 1863. As the Tokugawa Period comes to a close in Japan, the stakes have never been higher. Culture, tradition, and the way of the Warrior which has ruled the minds and hearts of those willing to fight for their own truth have been shaken. A war is brewing - terrible conflict that will shape the new age. The tumultuous passion of the sword cries out as it is replaced by heartless cold machinery. Those willing to resist change find themselves conforming to it soon enough. Hopelessness, fear, and betrayal color the countryside brighter than the rays of the Eastern sun. Yet in the heart of this place, there are those who will not give in. There are those who will fight. There are those with a truth so powerful that it cannot be denied, for humans and for demons both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ACT I: Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS MAY BE PRESENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> Key things new readers should know:
> 
> This is not a complete retelling. Important plot points, timelines, lore, and character backgrounds have been changed. This story is inspired by the games and anime but will likely divert from it heavily. Pairings will be decided as I outline the next several chapters. I don't like labeling or tagging pairings because I feel that this boxes in characters rather than letting them roam free and make their own decisions. However, if there are to be any labeled, then the key "pairings" will involve Chizuru with Saito/Souji/Hijikata/Kazama.
> 
> The main point is that I absolutely love this game, and I'd like to write my own version of it in my own way. I'm not trying to "outwrite" the creators. I have nothing but the highest respect for them. I do want to try my hand at sharing my own inner world with you guys of this universe as I see it.
> 
> Of course, your replies and your responses inspire me to keep working on these stories as writing takes a huge amount of time and hard work, so if you have a free moment, please drop me a line and let me know what you think.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**.**

**Hakuoki: Song of Truth**

**ACT I: Chapter I**

* * *

**.**

**December 1863**

**.**

* * *

…

* * *

.

.

.

Winter shrouded the large city of Kyoto in a haze of white frost. Snow fell from the black sky, shimmering white in the glaring moonlight. Winds howled as they whipped the fluttering banners of market stalls about. It was cold enough outside to force the owners of shops, inns, teahouses, and homes to close all of their doors and windows tight. The piercing wind had ushered everyone inside, leaving the streets in quiet eerie emptiness. The only bodies out and about at this hour were the impoverished and homeless and those who had little interest in doing more than helping themselves by taking advantage of those who couldn't. Even official patrols who were supposed to keep the peace were huddled indoors, too busy keeping their hands warm to care that a murder was about to take place.

The vast emptiness of a city that was normally bustling with trade and people terrified me. There was no one around to hear my ragged breathing and cries for help as I bolted down alleyways and side streets. There was no one around to witness the murderous glint in the eyes of the ronin who chased me. There was no none around to offer sanctuary.

"Help! Someone! Anyone!" I shouted between breaths, my voice raw and hoarse. I wanted to believe that if anyone heard the desperation in my words, they would do something to help me. I should have known otherwise, but I wasn't raised here. I'd been brought up in the country, where each and every person in a village depended on one another for survival. We traded, bartered, and helped each other where we could. Not true for city life, as I was finding out. A few days in Kyoto were not enough to teach me the subtle ways of its disposition, and I was about to pay the price for my ignorance with my life.

"Help!" Sweat poured down my face even in this cold, drying quickly as the wind slapped against my face. I didn't know how long I'd been running. I was exhausted, but I couldn't stop now. Not when fear muddled my senses and forced me to run well past my normal limits. Melted snow coated a messy mixture of gravel and dirt beneath my pounding heels, making the ground a treacherous trap of its own. The main streets of Kyoto were well developed, but its back roads were worn and neglected. More than once, I'd tripped and fallen, coating my clothes and skin in mud. I ran and ran, but it seemed that no matter how far I went or how complicated I made the turns of my dash through the city, the men behind me followed. Every time I stopped to catch my breath, I heard their shouts and footsteps grow closer.

My hand instinctively clenched around the hilts of the swords at my waist - the very things that had gotten me into this predicament in the first place. Passed down for generations in my family, they were priceless. Certainly, they were worth more than what the ronin would have peddled them for. Unfortunately, my refusal to part with them had landed me in quite a mess. I wasn't defenseless. I knew that I had a decent chance of defending myself against a few thugs. But every time I imagined fighting them, my hands shook and my knees went weak. My logic practically screamed at me to draw my sword, to fight, to defend myself. But no matter how I tried, I knew that I couldn't risk repeating what had happened just a few weeks past.

 _I swore that I would never do that again_ _…_

And so I ran onwards, ignoring the stitch in my side and the thorns that pin-cushioned into my lungs with each and every breath. The ronin gained on me, moving so fast that I began to hear their voices echoing on the sides of the buildings around me. I ducked into a side alley, thinking to outsmart them by doubling back towards the direction I came from -

Only to run into a dead end. A massive wall of stone and sand blocked my path, the end of the street cluttered with strewn waste and debris. My heart lurched painfully. This was it. I had no time to turn around now. Any second, they would be on me. I thought about hiding under some of the clutter but quickly changed my mind. Hiding wouldn't help me now. The only chance I had of surviving this was to fight.

"Come 'ere, little brat!" a voice barked from behind me. I whirled around just in time to see seven burly men filing into a formation that blocked my escape. Seven. One more than when all this began. The ringleader's shoulders shook with breathless laughter. "Why so scared? Are those things on your belt just for show?"

"Too nice to belong to a kid," another taunted, his yellowed teeth flashing. "Just hand 'em over and we'll make sure to leave you breathing when we're done with you."

"Please," I tried to reason, "these swords are all that I have left of -"

"Not interested," a third man cut in. "Save your breath, small fry. You'll need it for when we're beating the life out of you." In unison, they all drew their weapons. Instinctively, I did the same. But my hands were not as sure as theirs. My grip was shaky and slick with the sweat that greased my palms.

"I don't want to hurt you," I pleaded. Raucous laughter greeted me in reply.

"Hurt  _us_? Just who do you think we are, kid?" The ringleader's face hardened. "We're samurai. And you are nothing but a filthy commoner who's overstepped his bounds. We have the right to cut you down where you stand."

"Samurai," I murmured. How I wanted to spit that title back in their faces. These worms were far from being samurai. They'd fallen on hard times. I couldn't judge what had made them into the murderers and robbers that stood before me now, but hearing them use that title made me bristle. I'd known greater men who couldn't claim such a title by mere circumstance of birth. And here these lowlifes were using it as carelessly as a lowly honorific.

"That's right," a fourth in the group sneered. "Scared yet?"

"No," I replied, my voice reflecting a calm that I was far from feeling. My grip on my sword tightened, feet shifting into a more defensive stance. The men noticed this change in my demeanor. All at once, they fell silent. For several minutes, we analyzed each other. I could barely see in this pitch black darkness. Could I defend against so many? Most importantly, could I keep my wits about me as I tried? I didn't have time to think on it, for in the moment that I considered how I was going to try and slip away from them in combat, the leader let out a shrill cry and lunged at me.

My mind should have divided this alley into rings. I should have prioritized my enemies based on their speed, size, and agility. I should have been able to block and defend until I understood how they moved. Instead, all I could do was struggle to stay out of range of the edge of their blades. My thoughts scattered like sand in a gale. Lungs heaving, legs shaking, arms burning in pain as I blocked one slash after another - whatever I knew and learned about combat was gone. I gritted my teeth when the razor sharp edge of the leader's sword sliced into my thigh. It was a fairly shallow cut, and I danced around him in an attempt to put at least two bodies between us.

One of the men screamed in pain as my sword slid into his torso then twisted to stab into his neck. He fell with a sickening  _squelch_. Before I could process what I'd just done, another blade cut into my side. The pain disoriented me momentarily, and I dropped to one knee. Without missing a beat, I scooped up a handful of dirt and threw it into the face of the next man. Swiveling around, I blocked a strike from the left that would have decapitated me.

"You rotten little shit!" the leader shouted, angered that I'd felled his companion. His attacks grew stronger. Each slam of his blade against my sword sent powerful tremors through my arms and shoulders. I may have had knowledge of the skills and stances for combat, but my body hardly had any physical training. The other ronin surrounded me. I was small of stature, and in that moment, to me they seemed to block out the moonlight. My mind balked, tugging on memories that I'd been trying to bury for weeks. This scene was all too familiar, the stifling stench of blood and sweat enough to make me nauseous.

"Look at 'im…shaking like a leaf…"

"What's wrong,  _boy_?" another jeered, "...going to wet yourself?" At least my disguise wasn't compromised. Had they known that I was a woman, this situation would have been even uglier.

"You better be prepared," the leader snarled. "We're not gonna let you off easy for hurting Sumi." They closed in on me, their blades less than two meters away from cutting me open. Was this it, then? Would I die here just because a ronin or two wanted to afford sake and a warm meal for the night? I wondered if the man who'd taught me how to wield my swords would be ashamed. Adrenaline flushed my veins, colder than the surrounding snow. Then, my panic froze. Everything froze. My teeth stopped chattering, and the pain of my wounds faded to a dull roar in the background. Suddenly, all the movements around me appeared to be made in slow motion. I blinked, seeing red in the corner of my vision.

"I didn't hurt him," I heard myself say in an icy tone. "I  _killed_  him." Oh, no. This was bad. I wanted to run. I  _needed_ to run. This was exactly what had happened that night. First came the cold. Then the crimson. Then the rage that had cost the lives of ten men. My hands felt hot around the hilt of my sword. Demon rage. I'd lived most of my life denying what I was, but the incident some weeks ago left no more room for that. If these men insisted on fighting me, on cornering me...they would die.

"I'll rip you apart," the ronin leader snarled, oblivious to the situation.

"If you attack me now, you'll meet the same end as your friend," I warned. They didn't listen. The other men hadn't bothered to, either. I wanted to scream - to shout, to rail against this hopeless situation. But outwardly, I didn't move. I didn't make a single sound. As the ronin leapt upon me, I countered their strikes with renewed vigor. My blood grew hotter, a haze falling over my reasoning. In this state, their movements seemed clumsy and slow. The demon inside of me wanted them dead. It was all I could do to keep myself from landing fatal blows.

_I swore...I swore I wouldn't kill anyone ever again...and yet..._

A scream from behind me pierced the air. The distraction allowed the ronin leader to get past my guard and shove me up against a wall. I pushed him back with a well placed kick to his chest and turned to see more men filing into the alleyway. These men were different, though. Not ronin or common thugs. Something was off about them. They wore light azure coats ridged with white triangular patterns and some kind of long white narrow headband wrapped around their foreheads. At first, I thought I was seeing a trick of the light, but upon closer inspection, I confirmed that their hair was colorless and white.

"What the  _hell_?" the man that I'd just kicked muttered. The newcomers stopped and stood dead still for a moment before raising their heads and shrieking in unison. The sound was worse than nails scratching across metal. I flinched, but as soon as they started cutting into the other men who had attacked me, the leader charged into the fray without a moment's pause. He was mowed down instantly. They all were. One by one, they fell with groans and screams of pain. The white-haired men didn't stop there. Even after they dispatched their enemies, they continued to stab and cut into them, their expressions contorted with demonic laughter. I took a step back. Silence as all four of them looked up at me.

Eyes glowing crimson. Jaws opened wider than any human's. Foamy white saliva dripping down their chins. They were the picture of madness.

Monsters.

That was the only word I could use to describe them.

All at once, they were upon me, their strikes chaotic and too random to anticipate. The speed at which they moved was galling, and it was all I could do to outmaneuver them and stay away from their frantic attacks. I cut into them, over and over. But each time my sword left their bodies, the wounds I inflicted healed immediately.

"Blood! Give me…blood!" one of them hissed. He slashed at my face; I ducked and sliced upwards to pierce the muscles of his groin. The hit should have incapacitated him, but he stood his ground, laughing like a madman. "Blood! Blood!" Slice. Slice. Block. Duck. Reposition. Over and over. The red in my line of sight intensified. My vision tunneled as I realized just how much danger I was in. Though I managed to dodge most of the attacks, I wasn't fast enough to dodge them all. My teeth ground into my lip when I felt the frigid kiss of steel splaying open a spot just beneath my shoulder blade. Red leaked from my thigh and the wound in my side, blooming like tsubaki flowers on my haori and hakama. In a momentary lull in the conflict, my eyes darted to the ground where the unidentifiable corpses of my previous enemies lay. One of the white haired men cackled as he brought his sword to his mouth and licked the blood from it.

"Blood…give me…blood…"

Something snapped in my mind. Restraints I'd been holding onto shattered. The next time that the white haired monsters attacked, I parried even faster. Rather than causing superficial wounds, I aimed for their limbs and their necks. I sliced a jugular. Hot boiling blood spurted out in a river of red that gave off visible steam as it splattered to the ground. The monster fell, writhing and twitching. I decapitated the next, feeling nothing as I watched the red of his eyes fade to a lifeless black. Again and again, I struck, severing fingers, arms, and legs. Everything was covered in red - the walls, the ground, my face, my hands. My heart beat erratically, struggling to match the rhythm of my building rage. At last, the last monster fell at my feet, its head bouncing and rolling away into the shadows.

From behind, I sensed a sharp movement. No time to think. I turned and moved my blade in a reverse crescent to cut at my attacker. Strange, but this one was stronger than the others. And there were more of them. More blue coats. More white headbands. More to kill. More to cut down. Spill their blood. Kill them. Destroy them. Kill them so that I might live. Again and again, my sword clashed with theirs, my muscles spasming and my strikes faltering as more and more of my clothes turned a darker shade of crimson. My strength was pouring out of me, and each new nick and cut inflicted strained my resolve beyond belief.

"Stop!" one of the monsters shouted. The one engaging me feinted a hit to my leg. I saw through it and parried his sword right at the nape of my neck. We pushed apart. More blood gushed out of my thigh. "Souji, you're going to kill him!" I faltered just enough; misstepped just enough. In the blink of an eye, my sword was knocked out of my hands. I stumbled and fell to the heaving and spinning ground, automatically reaching for my wakazashi. Another blink, and before my fingers could even move to draw past the initial  _snap_  of my scabbard, the tip of a sword rested against my throat. Unwilling to give up, I twisted away then rolled backwards and away from the threat. The monster followed, raising his blade upwards, prepared to strike me down even as I tried to regain my footing. Something heavy slammed into my back, pushing me against the ground and completely knocking the wind out of me. Rough hands clamped around my wrist and twisted my arm until I couldn't move.

"Souji," a cool voice murmured. I barely heard it above the rasping of my labored breathing. As seconds ticked by, the red bled from my sight. The figures that I'd thought were more of the white-haired monsters became men - one with green eyes and one with blue. The one who had disarmed me glared at me with an evil and amused expression. His eyes reminded me of flaming jade. The blue-eyed man restrained him, one hand on his shoulder and the other holding back his sword arm. "Stop," the blue-eyed man commanded again. "This goes beyond our duty."

"Aren't you being a little sentimental, Saito?" the one called Souji sneered. "He was the one that attacked  _us_." Whatever or whomever was holding me down grabbed me by the shoulder and flipped me onto my back. Golden eyes and red hair came into my line of view.

"Oi…he really is just a kid," the bear-sized man above me frowned. He had a spear pointed at my chest, looking genuinely bewildered. My hand itched to grip his weapon and shove it away from me, but my body was no longer responsive. My arms hung uselessly at my side. I couldn't even feel pain anymore, and it took everything that I had just to cling to the frayed edges of my consciousness.

"Who are you…all of you…?" I rasped, tasting blood in my mouth. With each breath, flecks of it sprinkled onto my lips.

"Isn't that what we should be asking  _you?"_  another voice demanded. I glanced in that direction and saw a man with jet black hair and violet eyes staring down at me. Had I been in any other situation, I might have been entranced by the uncommon beauty of his features. Despite my inability to focus, the intensity of his gaze struck a cord in me. I realized that he was expecting an answer and clamped my mouth shut.

"Let's just kill him and be done with it, Hijikata," Souji said, his lips drawing into a sick smile. "Though I guess he'll be dead soon anyway. Just look at all that blood." The man with golden eyes frowned at those words.

"You showed no restraint," Saito said, his voice devoid of any and all emotion.

"Quiet," the violet-eyed man shook his head and pointed in some vague direction. "Heisuke, make sure to pick up their blue coats. We don't want this linked to us." He gestured to Saito then to me. "Pick him up. He's coming with us. We need to know how much he saw."

"Just leave him. He'll be dead in an hour," Souji protested sourly. "If we don't want to..." Their voices began to fade away. I looked past the men to the black and voidlike sky where snow continued to fall. The moon hid behind a mass of clouds, its light no longer white. The new tone stained the snowflakes with a violet hue, and all at once I felt like I was lying beneath the shedding branches of a cherry tree. There was something peaceful about that feeling, but peace was the last thing I needed right now. There was still too much to do. Still too much to accomplish. I had to find my father. If he was still alive, then Kyoto was the best clue I had to helping him. And the elixir...if I was dead, who would make the elixir to cure my father's fatal illness?

 _I can't die_  - I thought vaguely.

"I can't die here," I whispered, feeling my consciousness fading. Something warm and solid wrapped around my shoulders and slid beneath my knees. I felt myself being lifted upwards. Saito's face swam into focus. A solid aura of heat radiated from him. "My father...I have to help him..." His gaze was sharp and fierce. No mercy. No sympathy. Just like the finely honed edge of a sword. That heartless gaze followed me into the darkness.


	2. ACT I: Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not many views or replies on this site for this story yet, but I do hope that those of you guys who have read like it so far :) Thank you very much for those who left Kudos! Your support really helps inspire me. I mentioned this on my Twitter and Tumblr, but if there's enough interest in this story, I plan to make it into a comic just like I'm doing with Pulchra Tenebris :D

**Hakuoki: Song of Truth**

**ACT I: Chapter II**

**.**

* * *

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_I dreamed of fire._

_When I opened my eyes, I saw flames everywhere. Our home was ablaze._

_Scrambling out of my futon, I cupped a hand over my mouth and tried to breathe as a wracking cough shook my body. Tears streamed from my eyes, the smoke a potent lacrimator that tore at them with little mercy. My first instinct was to grab my swords and loop them through the belt of my yukata. Reassured by their sustaining presence, I got to my feet. Still half asleep, I stumbled around the room, trying to grasp what was happening. I gritted my teeth when I slammed my shoulder into a wall and shuffled backwards. While I wasted precious seconds trying to see through the choking smoke, the fire spread._

" _Father," I bit out between coughing and gasping for air. "Father!" Holding out a hand in front of me, I moved in the general direction of the next room. My skin broke out in sweat as the heat around me intensified. The inferno was deafening, its roar pressing in on me with tangible force. "Father!" I called out again and screamed when the top of the doorway above me gave a pained groan and collapsed. I jumped forward to avoid it, cursing when the hem of my yukata caught fire. Dropping to the ground, I batted at it with my hands, ignoring the feeling of the skin on my palms crunching and melting from the heat._ _Too engrossed in finding my father in the blaze to pay attention to the pain, I scrambled to my feet and moved towards the faint outline of my father_ _'s body. I fell to my knees beside him, crying out in panic when he didn't move. "Father! Father, we have to get out of here!"_

" _Chiz…uru?" he murmured. I almost failed to hear him over the snapping of wood and crackling of burning straw._

" _Please, father. You have to get up," I pleaded, knowing that begging was useless. He'd taken his elixir only a few hours ago, and though it suppressed the symptoms of his illness for a time, it was imperfect. Shortly after taking his dose, he'd had a suffered another fit that drained and incapacitated him. It would be hours yet before he could move around normally. Gritting my teeth together, I roped his arm over my shoulders and heaved us both to our feet. Another section of the roof collapsed, letting in a strong draft of freezing air from outside. Some of the wood smacked against my father's ankles, leaving furious red marks that were surely serious burns, but he was so far gone and exhausted that he didn't even flinch._

 _I dragged him with me towards the front door, crying out in panic when one of the house_ _'s supporting beams snapped and nearly crushed us both. We had minutes - no,_ _**seconds -** _ _before the entire house collapsed, and I was moving too slow. I tried to stifle my rising terror, doing my best to focus solely on pushing towards the exit. My father hung limp in my arms, and it was all I could do to keep shuffling and limping forward without dropping him._ _"Leave…me…" came his hoarse whisper._

" _No," I shook my head. How could he possibly imagine that I'd leave him behind to save myself?_

_**That's just like father** \- I thought grimly. **Always thinking of me and my well-being above his own.**_

__"Leave me…Chi…zuru…" His voice was so faint, his face white as snow. Dark rings circled eyes that were sunken in and partly swollen._ _ _More tears poured from my eyes. "_ _No, father. We can make it…" Horror mushroomed in my chest when I saw the front doorway catch fire. The curtain that served as a makeshift door snapped, beads scattering everywhere. The whole thing looked like the gaping maw of the Underworld itself, but I knew that I had to go through it. Even if we sustained some injuries, I knew that our demon blood would heal them quickly. Summoning up every shred of courage that I had, I moved my feet as quickly as I could. My calves cried out in agony, my back cramping under my father's weight. As soon as we were through, I pushed my father's body in front of me then rolled out of the way as the entire front wall of the house crumpled into a burning heap._

_For a few moments, I lay there, staring at the sky and reassuring myself that I was still alive. When I could move again, I rolled onto my side. I fully expected to see concerned villagers running towards us with buckets of water. Summer fires were common in this region, though they mostly occurred in fields rather than homes. What I saw instead made my heart turn to stone. At first, I thought that the mounds strewn about the center of the village and near other burning homes were debris or piles of soil. It took seconds to realize that the variation in colors on them were clothes._

_Corpses._

_Bodies were everywhere._

_As my head cleared of the effects of inhaling smoke and ash, my hearing returned. The earth rumbled beneath me, shaking and trembling as at least a dozen men on horseback galloped through the village, laughing in excitement as they cut down men, women, and children in their way. I turned to look at my father. He hadn_ _'t moved from where I'd placed him. My thoughts churned chaotically. What was I supposed to do? I had no delusions about being able to help this village. Even if I was a demon, what could I do alone against so many heavily armed men? If my father was awake, he would have immediately taken me into hiding. Human affairs were none of our business. As demons, we didn't interfere with them any more than we had to in order to survive._

 _Crawling over to him, I looped my arms under his, regained my footing, and tried to drag him backwards into the surrounding forest. His face was deathly pale, sweat beading on his temples. I knew that moving around had to be incredibly painful. I couldn_ _'t even imagine what such exposure to the smoke had done to his already weak lungs. I hoped - I_ _**prayed**   - _ _that the other humans wouldn'_ _t see me as I made painstaking slow progress. As minutes passed, what had been a symphony of terrified screaming and wailing turned to an even more frightening silence._

" _Hey! What's that over there?" one of the attackers called. "It's them! After them! Don't let them get away!" We'd been spotted! I watched, mouth open in a silent scream, as a group of men split off from the main force and galloped towards us._

" _Father!" I shouted, grinding my teeth together as I redoubled my efforts to drag him away. "Father, please! You have to move!"_

_Closer  and closer the men came, the light of the flames reflecting in their horses'_ _huge glassy eyes. They resembled demons themselves._

" _Father, I beg you!"_

_The trembling grew stronger under my bare feet. I had time to let out a shrill scream before they reached us. One of the men slashed downwards with his sword as he flew past me. In my rush to avoid the blow, I let my father slip from my grasp. We both fell to the ground, the back of my skull smacking into the hard earth. As I tried to get back up, two of the men dismounted._

" _It's him," the taller of the two said in a grim tone. "Grab him, but be careful. Our men in Kyoto want him alive."_

" _And the girl?" the other asked, his smile making me sick to my stomach._

" _She's yours. Do what you want with her." My ears were still ringing from the blow to my head, but as the men approached me, I drew my sword and bent my knees, prepared to defend my father to the death._

" _Oh ho…looks like we've got ourselves a scrappy one, boys," the shorter man chortled and licked his lips. "Come 'ere, little girl. You might be scrawny, but a man can't be too picky these days." Two others dismounted, the looks on their faces suggesting that they all shared their companion's intentions._ _All of them drew their swords. I raised mine._

_"Put that down before you hurt yourself," another man chuckled. "If you really want something to play with, I can help you out." He made a rude gesture. I was by no means a meek woman. Traveling disguised as a boy for years, I'd learned to talk back to men who believed themselves above me. But right now, I couldn't say a word. All of my focus was on my father who lay still and unmoving behind me._

_"Let's get 'er, boys," a fourth man barked. With that, w_ _e clashed. They crashed into me like a tidal wave, steel flashing in the amber light. As I was trying to defend my back, I saw one of the men take the opportunity to grab my father and drag him away. Screaming in denial, I tried to charge after him, but was stopped when another man nearly cut off my arm. With so many enemies, all I could do was defend and fight for my life. That is, until I saw my father regain his senses. Time seemed to stop. He looked up at me and struggled out of his attacker's grip._

" _Father!" I screamed._

" _Chizuru," I saw him mouth silently just as his captor kicked him in the chest. As he rolled onto his stomach, my father coughed, blood spewing from his lips. Seeing his fragile body, the body we fought every single day to keep alive, treated like that - with such cruelty and malice - drove me over the edge from fear to fury. With a vile cackle, the man picked him up and threw him over his horse. Red filled my vision. My back straightened, thoughts stilling and growing cold. My vision tunneled. I drew my wakizashi with my free hand, balancing my body to compensate for the difference in weight with the katana in my other hand. The men looked confused for a moment, but they didn't have long to ponder what I was doing. I flew forward and attacked._

_Skill, logic, and strategy disappeared. I was no longer thinking of countering, just attacking. The sensation of steel sliding through skin, muscle, and bone thrilled and excited me. Blood spurted in violent torrents in all directions, coating my face and my hands. It was warm and sticky, quickly drying and turning into a thin crusty layer over my clothes and my skin. With each strike, I felt more and more of my emotions fade away until all that was left was anger. The sight of the man kicking my father looped over and over in my head as the men around me screamed and howled._

_When each and every one around me was dead, I heard more hooves pounding behind me. A survivor no doubt coming to take vengeance. The thought of cutting him to shreds made my heart beat faster in excitement. Tossing my wakizashi to the ground, I knelt down and plucked a nodachi from the lifeless grip of one of the bandits. As the horse approached me, I rolled forward and slashed at its ankles, using the extended length of the blade as a pivot point to gouge at the rider's feet as well . The animal rolled forward and went down with a pained squeal that matched the terror of its rider's yelp. Turning around, I witnessed a tangle of limbs, hooves, and blood, satisfied when neither beast nor rider moved again._

_Then silence._

_I couldn_ _'t hear the roaring of the fires any more._

 _I couldn_ _'t feel the burns on my skin._

 _I couldn_ _'t see any more enemies._

_As far as I could tell, everyone around me was dead. If anyone had survived the brutal attack, they were long gone._

_As was my father and the man who_ _'d taken him from me._

* * *

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* * *

Regaining control of my senses felt very much like lighting the trail of paper lamps hanging on the walls at my father's old clinic. Night had fallen over my mind, a soot-like darkness that consumed everything around me. I struggled through it, lighting one lantern at a time until my surroundings slowly came into focus. My awareness followed, padding along the trail of light with a halting clumsiness. Through a curtained blurry haze, I saw a heavy-set man sitting above me. His head was shaven, and he wore the dark contrasting colors popular among prominent doctors and physicians that practiced in larger towns and cities.

"Father?" I blinked, trying to bring this man's features into sharper focus. I reached for him, feeling my heart ache in my chest. I hadn't seen his face in so long. It felt like years since we'd spoken even though only a few months had gone by. But was it any wonder that I felt so relieved to see him? He'd been taken from me - stolen in the night with only a faint trail of blood to follow. I tried not assume the worst, but as weeks went by, I began to believe it. My only hope was the bandit leader's words.  _Our men in Kyoto need him alive_ \- he'd said, and I could only pray that he still was.  _  
_

"Don't move just yet, lad," the man directed in a low and kind voice. "You've lost a lot of blood, and your injuries are grave." Some of what he said made sense, but not all of it. I was injured? How? I fought to recall the last time I'd been awake, but the memories slipped through my fingers like oil.

"Father, I…" When I tried to move, a blinding pain tore through my back and my side.

"Try not to speak," he said gently. "Save your strength." He lifted my wrist and checked my pulse then reached into a large satchel and pulled out a set of herbs that smelled familiar. My heart fell, hope shriveling as flowers beneath acidic rain. My father didn't speak this way. The man above me had a heavy city accent, and my father would never wear anything that would make him stand out in a crowd. Such was our way of life - helping humans where we could, yet avoiding them at all costs. Humans couldn't be trusted. Humans were treacherous as unstable ravines in a storm.

"Stop," I gasped when the man reached to pull aside the seams of my haori. My hand snapped up and grabbed at his wrist. Finally, his features sharpened. I saw a lined face with wide-set dark brown eyes and a large nose with a crook at its bridge. Bushed black eyebrows with hints of grey lifted high as the man checked the grip of my hand on him. His expression clouded with confusion.

"Your arm," he began. "How are you still able to move it…?" I struggled for a moment more before my hand fell back to my side. The walls shifted and spun, making my stomach churn in protest. When was the last time that I'd been this badly hurt? I couldn't recall. The man's expression softened, and he smoothed a calloused palm over my forehead. "Don't be afraid, lad," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you." He tugged on my haori, loosening my belt and peeling away the layers of ruined cloth. "I need to see how bad your chest wound is so that I can - " His words came to a grinding halt. He looked between my face and my chest. As I lay helpless, I knew the cause for his surprise. "Wait…you're a…"

 _Woman_  - I filled in for him mentally when the words stoppered in his throat. Though my chest was tightly bound, I was sure that the bandages had loosened if not fallen free.

"But they said you were…"

_They? Who was he referring to?_

"Doctor Matsumoto," a voice spoke from a distance away. "What's your verdict? Will he live?" The man above me looked grave for a moment before pulling my haori closed with a sharp snap. Just as he finished adjusting my clothes, I saw a shadow approach.

"I'll need more time," the doctor replied. "And I'll need to work undisturbed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" another male voice intoned. "You're not going to say that we should leave him unguarded." Each syllable dripped with sarcasm.

"Not now, Souji," the shadow snapped. His voice was gruff and low, rumbling with irritation yet somehow pleasant all the same.

"These wounds are serious, Vice Commander," the doctor said.

"Then have Yamazaki help you."

"No," the doctor insisted quickly. Perhaps  _too_ quickly. I blinked again, and the shadow became a man's face. Familiar violet eyes triggered my most recent and lost memories. Flashes of city streets; the moon shining from beneath a heavy cover of clouds. Blood staining earth and stone and flesh. That's right. Some ronin wanted to rob me of my swords and chased me through the city when we encountered something horrible. I'd been fighting some sort of monsters when these men showed up and…and then what? I could barely remember the fight, and I certainly couldn't remember anything after it. Had they taken me somewhere? Where was I?

"You seem awfully determined to save him," Souji pressed.

"From what I understand, it isn't the Shinsengumi's aim to kill innocent civilians," Matsumoto countered. His shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. "Please. I need time and privacy now, Vice Commander." The violet-eyed man's brows furrowed in irritation, but he didn't resist. Turning away, he stepped out of my line of sight.

"Get up, Souji. It's you and Saito on patrol tonight." A pause, then - "If he tries to run, I'll gut him myself."

"There's no need for such harsh words," the doctor replied. "With these injuries, I doubt that he'll be able to move at all for at least several weeks."

"Hmm? Is that so?" Souji gibed. "At least we'll know who to blame if he escapes."

"That's enough," the Vice Commander barked. Suddenly, his voice wasn't pleasant at all. The sound of sandals sliding over loose stone echoed all around. The room fell silent after their retreating footsteps. When all had gone completely quiet, the doctor looked down at me.

"I don't know your reasons for hiding behind men's clothing," he frowned, "but I assume that you don't wish anyone to know your secret. I can't imagine why they brought you here or why they insist that I help you, but," he reached beside him, wrung water out of a small bit of cloth, and wiped the side of my face, "I can't let a child die like this. I promise to do all I can to see that you recover."

A child? It took me a moment to understand what he meant. Of course. To a human, I might look small and young. But as demons, time flowed differently for my father and I. By casual glance, no one would ever be able to tell that I was sixteen. I didn't enjoy being seen as a child, but in this case, it seemed that my appearance gave me a certain advantage. At the very least, this human had given me his loyalty, however temporary it might be. I wanted to question him about my situation, but it seemed that my body was at its limit yet again. I thought to close my eyes for just a moment, but as soon as I did, I couldn't open them again.

* * *

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* * *

I don't know how much time passed. The darkness that I wandered was deep and all-consuming. I would have stayed there longer if a distinct and very familiar sound hadn't snapped me back into awareness. The heavy curtains of my eyelids lifted, revealing an unfamiliar ceiling. Some distance away, I heard sharp, wet, and pained coughing. I couldn't remember where I was. The room around me looked alien, but this sensation, too, was somehow familiar. We changed locations frequently during our travels, and when I was half asleep like this, I often failed to recall features of the places we stayed in, especially if I'd spent long hours making more doses of father's elixir.

More coughing. Stronger this time.

My body moved on its own. I rolled out of my futon, stumbling towards the noise. As I went, I did my best to straighten my yukata. It was far too large and scratchier than the one I normally wore. Binding my chest seemed like a hassle right now. Who was there to see me anyway? All I could think of was getting to my father and helping to ease his pain.

"I'm coming, father," I murmured. His cough didn't sound so terrible today. Had the elixir helped? I couldn't recall neither when I'd given him his last dose nor when he'd last suffered a fit from it. Somehow, lifting my arms to rub the weariness from my eyes was too exhausting. Everything, even walking, was a trial. Was I that tired? Perhaps I'd had too little sleep lately. With body so uncooperative, I used my shoulder as a support, sliding along the wall of the room then out the sliding door and onto a wooden walkway. I followed the staggered coughing and gasping until I reached another sliding door. Strange. We usually slept close together in case this sort of thing happened in the middle of the night.

 _He must have moved away so he wouldn_ _'t wake me_  - I thought. Without hesitating for a moment, I opened the door and stepped into the room. In front of me lay a rather plain futon, the covers crumpled as though someone had left them in a hurry. In the corner of the room, I saw a figure hunched over, their broad shoulders shaking. "Father, I'm here…" My words sounded sluggish, my tongue slow to form the syllables. In fact, I felt like I was partially paralyzed. Just what was wrong with me? Had I caught a cold? I raised a shaking hand to my cheeks, surprised to note that they were burning up. No matter. I could take care of a fever later. Right now, I needed to help my father.

I took a few more steps forward when one of my knees gave way. I stumbled, but regained my balance by grabbing onto my father's shoulders. I was about to ask him if he was in pain when something pushed me backwards. Already off kilter, I couldn't catch myself in time. My body dropped like a stone, the impact with the ground knocking the breath out of my lungs and making me bite my tongue. I tasted blood. The figure moved as quick as lightning, and I screamed when I realized that this was  _not_ my father at all. Something clamped over my mouth. An enormous weight pinned me down at my thighs and shoulders. I flinched when something sharp rasped at the edge of my throat.

"What are  _you_  doing here?" the figure asked me. I blinked, and the image of my father swirled and changed. Brown eyes shifted to sharp green. Light brown strands of hair fell forward to frame a much younger face. I recognized the stinging at my neck as the edge of a sword a split second before it withdrew, the large hand on my mouth sliding down and taking its place. I knew that murderous jade glare. A name floated up from memory.

Souji.

"Weren't you told that if you ran, you would die?" he asked, his lips quirking into a grin that I was beginning to dread. "Not that I mind. I've been wanting to do this since that night in the alleyway." His grip tightened on my throat. "So what are you? A rebel spy? Choshu? An Aizu sneak?" his smile widened as I struggled to breathe. "Aren't you a little young to be playing with swords in dark alleys? Or was that just a ploy to get you into the heart of Shinsengumi headquarters?"

"Shin...sengumi?" I sputtered. What was he talking about? Blackness crept at the edge of my vision. I squirmed under Souji's overwhelming weight, finally managing to get a leg and and an arm free. My leg was useless, but I used my arm to push against his shoulder. When I could, I found the pressure point that would cause his grip on my neck to falter and dug my thumb into it with all the strength I could muster. His smile disappeared, replaced by a look of promised death. I shuddered, trying to shuffle back from him as soon as I could. His fingernails dug into my neck as I broke free of his hold. He grabbed at my ankle and dragged me back to him. Though he was strong and much larger, his size gave him little advantage in keeping me still. Despite his bold threats, it did seem like he was trying not to hurt me too badly in our tussle. Our struggle seemed to last forever, but all too soon, I was breathless and exhausted. My side and my back screamed in agony. I felt the skin there pop and strain, each snap sharp and painful. How could I have forgotten about my injuries?

"Stop squirming," Souji ground out through clenched teeth. His sword was gone. He needed both hands to have any hope of restraining me. He grabbed both of my wrists, lifted my upper body off the ground, then slammed it back down. Pain. Agony. I thought my skull would split open. He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt to threaten me, then went utterly still. A beat. Two. Three. His emerald eyed had gone wide, a stupefied expression on his face. Another second passed, and I thought I saw a tinge of red flushing the very edges of his cheekbones. I followed his gaze down to where my yukata had been ripped open to reveal one side of my very naked and very unbound chest.

_Oh no..._

Honestly, I felt like I might be too exhausted to be embarrassed. My wounds throbbed; no doubt they'd reopened and were bleeding. I should have been concerned about the fact that this man had just tried to throttle me. However, I'd never been naked in front of a man before, and suddenly I was very much aware of the fact that my yukata was hiked up to my waist and that one of this man's legs rested between my own. I thought he'd toss me aside, but he just kept  _staring_ , and the more he stared, the more heat I felt rising up my neck, into my face, and up to my ears.

"Let me go," I demanded past the lump in my throat, and to my utmost surprise, he obliged. I scrambled away from him, rushing to readjust my clothes. When I looked back up, the shocked expression was gone from Souji's face. His lips were pursed and his eyes narrowed.

"If you think you're safe, think again," he warned. The corners of his mouth quirked back up into that horrible smile again. "I have no problem with killing a woman if she's a threat." He reached over and picked up his sword then stood, his own yukata mussed and sliding off a part of his shoulder. In the span of a heart beat, the tip of his sword was at my neck again. "Get up. You better have a good explanation for all this. If you don't," he slid a finger across his neck. I had no doubt about what that gesture meant.


End file.
